The Roost
by Melon Dollar Baby
Summary: A selection of oneshots about Brewster and his customers. I will prioritise any character requests left by readers
1. Pete

Pete the Postman sat miserably at the counter, resting his head on his wing and holding his coffee on the other. Staring into his coffee, he sighed deeply again, mournfully and despondent. On the other side of the counter, Brewster stood somewhat uncomfortably, watching his sad customer. It was a well known fact that Brewster's hatred lay with people who didn't drink their coffee immediately whilst it was piping hot yet he didn't have the heart to chastise this particular patron today.

Pete sighed yet again and Brewster slowly placed the cup he was polishing down the counter. Giving a somewhat hesitant sigh himself, Brewster stood in front of his customer.

"Coo...is something wrong?"

Pete looked up, surprised the usually silent barista had spoken to him.

"I guess I'm having some lady problems," he replied, looking back down to his coffee. Brewster cast a quick glance to the coffee, slowing going cold on the counter, then quickly averted his eyes.

"Would you...like to talk about it?"

"I mean, sure," Pete answered, still wary about this unexpected situation he had found himself in, "It's about Phyllis. Everytime I think she doesn't like me, she starts throwing me all these signs that she does like me! And then, she goes off me again! She drives me nuts!"

Brewster paused, searching his mind for the right way to respond, to calm his customers nerves. Before he could, Pete began again.

"And then, there's Pelly. You know, sometimes I think I'm arrogant or self-centred but I have a feeling that she has a crush on me!"

Brewster thought about all the times Pelly had spoke dreamily about the postman whilst she was at the coffee shop, every time she'd got flustered when he walked in and how obvious her love for him was.

"Really?" Brewster said, utterly deadpan, "I had no idea."

"Yeah, man. Pelly is a sweet girl, sure, but Phyllis is my dream girl! She's beautiful, she's funny and smart," the postman exclaimed, lovingly.

Brewster paused in thought, "Is Pelly none of these things, coo?"

Pete shrugged.

"I guess so. But, Phyllis is, like, different. She's all sassy and mean. You know, right?"

"Yes," Brewster lied, "I know."

"I get so nervous that Phyllis actually does like me, but feels like she can't be with me because of Pelly! And I get it, the last thing I'd ever want is to ruin a sister relationship but it's so frustrating! I just want to be with Phyllis."

Pete sighed again and looked down at his coffee, picking the handle of the mug up and swirling the contents. He took a quick sip, and despite his concern for his apparent new found friend, Brewster couldn't help but think in frustration of how cold the coffee must be. A few silent minutes passed between the two, penetrated only by the ticking clock and the peaceful music that played constantly on a little stereo. Brewster felt as though he should say something. He wasn't sure what but he knew it had to be the right thing to help Pete whilst also comfort his troubled mind.

"Women, eh? Coo."

Pete chucked, "You got that right, pal. What do you think I should do? Continue trying to woo the girl I love that...probably...doesn't love me back or settle for the girl who adores me?"

Brewster sighed, regretting the entire situation.

"If you continue trying to coo- er, I mean, _woo_ Phyllis, I can only imagine you will end up with hurt feelings when she doesn't reciprocate those feelings…" the wise barista advised.

"So you think I should go for Pelly!" Pete exclaimed. Brewster shield shook his head.

"You don't reciprocate Pelly's feelings. She will end up with her feelings hurt, coo…"

Pete paused.

"So… you're saying, Pelly is the me in this situation. Phyllis doesn't feel the same way about me, the same way I don't want anything to do with Pelly!"

"That seems harsh, but yes."

"You are really smart, Brewster. You should become one of those TV talk show hosts!"

"That is the last thing I would want...coo…"

Pete chuckled and quickly downed the last of his coffee. Brewster took the mug and slyly checked the temperature of the mug. It was ice cold. He sighed, resentfully. Pete got up to leave the cafe, but turned to face his new found friend.

"Thank you, Brewster. I was being selfish. You're a good guy!" He smiled cheerily whilst opening the door. He stuck his head back round before he left, "Expect first-class delivery for all your stock from now on. Premier service! Consider yourself a priority!"

And, with that, the door shut and Brewster was left stood in the empty cafe, the ticking clock and the calm music still playing. With a small smile, he began cleaning the mug. It was nice to feel like a priority for a change.


	2. Harvey

Harvey continued strumming his guitar, singing improvised gibberish as he went. Brewster stood in front of him, awkwardly, as the nonsense music continued before him. Tiny yellow birds chirped around him, unusually in time to the music. Brewster regarded them nervously, praying they didn't leave a...mess…that he would not want to clean up once this customer had left.

Suddenly, the never-ending song ended and Brewster gave a delayed and disheartened applause.

"Yep, that's the new song," Harvey smiled, "I haven't got the lyrics down right but I doubt you could tell, right?"

Amongst the numerous lines he had heard, the only ones Brewster could vaguely remember were:

-"I don't like the Internet, I think it's evil and wicked"

-"This beautiful earth made lots of things but it didn't make an Internet browser"

-"Why are teenagers so intimidating, because you're all so smaaaaaaaaall"

"Get your RV off my magnolias, you serpent womaaaan"

"I had no idea, coo," Brewster lied, blantantly.

"Haha! Guess I just got the musical gift, right? I am thinking of making the song anti-Internet themed. Either that or a powerful pro-peace ballad, man."

"I am sorry to interject, Harvey," he replied, quietly, "but, you have been here for 45 minutes and have yet to order anything."

"Sorry, man, I didn't come here for coffee. I only drink kale smoothies and good old fashioned Earth Juice. That's what I call…waaaaateeeer," Harvey explained, singing the last word which was accompanied with a powerful guitar riff. Brewster sighed and continued polishing the mug he had been holding. Harvey, who didn't seem to notice the barista's chagrin, grinned and continued playing a peaceful melody on his guitar, "I just wanted to play you my new tune."

The confused barista stopped polishing momentarily and looked up at the campsite manager, who was still riffing.

"Why me? I didn't realise we were close...coo…"

"You've got great taste, man! This groovy little wooden coffee shop, that cool mustache you got and your amazing taste in coffee. Down with franchises."

Brewster felt his cheeks warm a little. No one had ever told him he had great taste. He especially liked the comment about his mustache, a feature of himself which he felt was severely underrated.

"Thank you, Harvey...those kind words mean a lot, coo…"

"Who's Harvey?" Harvey exclaimed. He paused for a minute and then fell into a bashful grin, "That's me, isn't it? I'm doing that a lot these days. I'm old, you see?"

Brewster signed internally, the compliment he had received feeling a lot less sincere now. Harvey had a think and began laughing again.

"Also, did I say I hate coffee? I love the stuff! Dairy-free of course. Plus, I did write lyrics to this, but I got to the door and forgot 'em!"

Brewster chuckled softly. Even though he seemed to have really lost the plot, Brewster rarely got to speak with such a carefree and kind man.

"Well, I better be going," Harvey exclaimed, jumping off his seat, making all the birds around him jitter, "I've left the campsite unattended for nearly an hour."

The birds all followed him as he walked to the door played a peaceful melody as he left. He nodded a goodbye to Brewster and then the door was shut, the melody continuing until it got quieter and then, faded away.

Alone, Brewster turned towards the highly-polished glass counter, and admired his mustache.


	3. Phyllis

Phyllis sat at the bar, saying nothing and drinking her piping hot coffee. Brewster stood behind the bar, saying nothing and cleaning a cup that previously had had piping hot coffee in it. No talking. No babble. No nonsense. Just silence.

It was for this reason that Brewster often thought of Phyllis as his favourite customer. She took her coffee black - simple - and sat in silence the entire time - peaceful. Just how he liked it. Brewster was a pigeon of few words and preferred when his customers drank and left. It wasn't that he was antisocial or anything, talking made him nervous. Words didn't come naturally to him.

For Phyllis it was the complete other reason. She was antisocial. People annoyed her to no end and she'd prefer it much more if she could go through her day not talking to anyone. Meaning that the graveyard shift at the post office was perfect for her. Her shifts usually involved paperwork and the occasional customer but not many.

The two of them sat in their comfortable, coffee scented silence, content with themselves in this moment.

The door slammed open.

"Hiya, cousins. I'll get a cup o' joe, Brewster!" Crazy Redd exclaimed, pulling a small cart behind him.

Brewster nearly crushed the mug he was holding with his bare wing. He didn't care for Redd, _at all_. If he had to choose between all the chatty, annoying customers in the world or serving Reds one solitary coffee, there was no thought for him. They'd come across each other in the city, when Brewster owned his struggling cafe and Redd was running his shady operations there. Brewster thought he was finally free of the crook when he moved his coffee shop to Blathers' museum and again when he opened his own cafe. Yet, here he was, chuckling to himself and looking about shifty.

Brewster poured a coffee out and put it in a takeaway cup at the end of the bar, praying Redd would just leave. However, the fox grabbed it and sat right next to Phyllis, who blatantly rolled her eyes. In return, Redd blatantly ignored her.

"You know, cousins, I have some great pieces here today. No one stopped by the tent today so I've reduced them from 7,000 bells to 6,999! A real steal, wouldn't you say?"

"No," Phyllis replied sharply. She looked at Brewster, seeing if he needed any help. Brewster looked towards Crazy Redd.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't sell those here-" he began but the conman cut him off.

"I know what you're thinking now, friend. No matter what people say, I always put value first which is why my prices are so low! The most genuine art and the most genuinely crazy prices!"

"I'd rather you didn't-"

"See this serene painting? I can see it's caught your eye, my pretty!" Redd exclaimed, touching Phyllis' arm, "It's almost as beautiful as you!"

She moved her arm sharply with a disgusted sigh.

"I think you'd better go-" Brewster tried to say again before once again being cut off. He gripped the mug tightly in frustration.

"Now this moving painting. It evokes so many emotions, doesn't it, cousin? Just looking at it makes me want to cry...and the thought of selling it! Makes me actually cry!" Redd exclaimed, covering his face to fake cry. Phyllis looked at Brewster in annoyance, who gave her a similar look. Redd looked up, "But for you my old friend, only 10,000 bells!"

"Please, sir, I must ask you-"

"And this! Help me with this tarp, cousin. This gallant statue will really bring a tear to your eye!"

"That's it!" Phyllis shouted suddenly before standing up,

"Get out!"

"This is not your establishment, ma'am," Redd said, demeanour changing much darker.

"No," Brewster stated, "It's mine. And I am asking you to get you and your forgeries out of here."

"Forgeries?!"

"Yeah!" Phyllis yelled, "From what I know, you're currently on Copper's watchlist so get out of here or I'll just have to call him."

Redd spluttered in pure rage as he looked from a furious Phyllis to a calm and defiant Brewster. He grabbed his cart and stormed out, muttering.

"Redd?" Brewster called. Redd turned sharply.

"Your coffee will be 200 bells."

Redd threw the coins onto the floor and slammed the door. Phyllis sat back down and Brewster resumed his cleaning duties.

"Thank you," he said quietly to Phyllis. She gave him a small smile and began to pick up her bag and cardigan. Once she'd got everything sorted and stood up from her seat, she saw a takeaway cup on the counter, steam clouds rising from the top. Questioningly, she turned to Brewster.

"Coo...it's to take to work with you...as a thank you."

"Thank you, Brewster. Anytime."

As she left she picked up Redd's discarded coins and placed them on top of the nearest table. The door shut slowly and the silence came back.


	4. Resetti

Resetti took another sip of coffee and carried on with his griping.

"I don't like shouting at the kids, I don't! But when I'm relaxing in my chair, watching my show, having a nice time only for it to be RUINED when I'm flung out of the centre at 50 mph because they reset...it gets me ANGRY."

Brewster sighed and continued wiping the mug he was holding. Resetti could go one or two ways - a silent coffee and polite goodbye or an hour of rampant rages. Today it seemed like it would be an hour of yelling. And Resetti had only been here for 15 minutes. Brewster knew. Brewster had been counting.

"But I'm always the bad guy! Not the people resetting and wasting my time and calling me out at unholy hours...ME! It grinds my gears! Rules are for a reason!"

' _Yes…"_ Brewster thought, " _Like the rule about keeping voices down to ensure everyone has a pleasant visit…'_

"Plus, Don gets to play the good guy. The calm one that everyone likes! I just pop out of the ground and yell at people! But it's my job description! I don't want to do it! I want to be at home watching my car shows and my auction house dramas."

Brewster pretended to listen and threw in the occasional nod. He felt bad as Resetti was a regular customer but sometimes he just wished he'd go away. He was so loud and Brewster always ended up with a headache and an unfamiliar anger whenever Resetti had been ranting and raving. He just brought everything down and projected his irritation into the unlucky barista.

"I just… I just wish people liked me," Resetti said, sadly.

A wave of guilt washed over Brewster. He knew how that felt all too well.

"Coo...when I worked in the city, I felt the same way. Everyone would go for drinks at the end of their shifts and I was never invited. Worse, they planned their activities in front of me at my own cafe...coo. After a while, I realised I didn't want to be friends with people who didn't appreciate how I was."

Resetti listened silently and intently.

"After a while...coo...I met Blathers. And...I found a friend. A true friend who liked me for who I am. Since then, I have never lamented over who liked me and who doesn't, coo."

Resetti downed the rest of his coffee and grinned at Brewster.

"You know what, pal? You're right. I may be loud and lazy and crass but I'm not changing who I am. Anyone who doesn't like it, can lump it!"

Brewster nodded and smiled. He was always glad to help someone who was feeling down. After all, it was a feeling he knew all too well.

"You're a great pal. I'm going to tell everyone what a fantastic listener you are!"

A sudden feeling of horror hit Brewster.

"No...don't do that...that's not true."

"And! I'll tell everyone that you give great advice! From now on, if anyone has any worries they'll come to you!"

' _This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me'_ Brewster thought, horrified.

"No...that's not true...I'm terrible at advice."

Resetti gave one last grin and a wave, before shutting the door. Brewster was left standing behind the counter, dreadful feelings still giving him chills.

"This...is the worst day of my life…" he whispered quietly in his empty cafe, "...Coo."


	5. Pelly

**apologies to accidentally reposting the pete chapter onto the resetti chapter. turns out i can't use the internet**

Brewster was stood awkwardly behind the counter, watching his customer. Pelly, said customer, was nervously drinking her coffee and every so often staring at the door and the wall clock. Every so often, she'd catch Brewster's eye by mistake and look away sharply, blushing. It was a very uncomfortable atmosphere throughout the cafe, especially as there was only the two of them.

"Is that clock right?" She asked. Brewster looked up at the clock. He knew full well it was correct. It was set to his watch, which he also knew was exactly correct.

"I'll check," he replied so he'd have an excuse to go into the back room and escape this awkward tension. He wandered into the back and stood about for a bit, counting his stock supplies and cleaning any dust away. After a reasonable amount of time, he walked back out. "The clock is correct."

"Ah, okay," she said, somewhat sadly, "And...erm...what time does Petey- I mean- _Pete_ come in, would you say?"

"Usually about 15 minutes ago...coo," Brewster replied.

Pelly looked down at her coffee. Brewster remembered his conversation with Pete and his thoughts regarding Pelly. He wanted to help her but then he remembered his conversation with Resetti. The last thing he needed was more people wanting to talk to him. Until…he heard a small sniffle. Pelly was sat, trying her hardest not to cry. Brewster scolded himself for his selfishness.

"You were here, hoping to run into Pete, coo?" He asked. Pelly nodded, "You are upset?"

"I asked Phyllis to cover my last hour in exchange for me to come in an hour earlier tomorrow. If he's not here, he's at the post office...talking to her…"

The poor girl looked so sad and...small. Brewster had never had any time for romance and didn't know what it was like to have an unrequited love. But looking at Pelly and her tear stained face, he could imagine how bad it must feel.

"Listen...coo...I don't know much about this...but you deserve better than Pete."

Pelly looked up, shocked.

"No, no, surely not! He's so handsome and funny and I'm … just a boring, plain pelican. A plainican."

"You aren't boring. That plainican joke was...funny…" Brewster lied, "I think you are sweet…and kind. You shouldn't be here pining away for someone who doesn't appreciate you."

Pelly thought for a second.

"Maybe you're right. It's just...he's the only one I want. I don't want to be with anyone else."

"Coo…be that as it may...you don't have to pine around waiting for him. You should be doing things you enjoy and making stories for yourself. You wouldn't be boring then."

Pelly smiled at the barista, who managed somewhat of a tiny smile himself.

"You're so right Brewster. I've been wasting my time pining away like this. I feel so silly now," she enthused, blushing, "Thank you for helping me see that. I'm going to start doing new things instead of sitting around and waiting for Pete to love me back."

Brewster walked to the other side of the counter and plucked a small leaflet from the stand. It was a bright green colour with a picture of popular music star, K.K Slider. The two had a close, albeit surprising bond, since K.K played in Brewster's old cafe, every Saturday, before he made it big. He gave the leaflet to a wide eyed Pelly.

"Here...I believe he is playing tonight. A DJ club night, apparently...coo," he told the pelican who was reading the leaflet intently, "This could be a good start to living your life."

"A night out? To a club? That certainly isn't something I've done before! Would you like to join me?" Brewster shook his head.

"Coo...I am at the cafe for 24 hours. Although, if I was to go, it would be to his acoustic night on a Saturday. I don't care for disco," he replied, somewhat misinformed on what club music and disco music were.

"That is a shame. However, I am looking forward to going solo. To tell you the truth, I bought a lovely dress from the Able Sisters a while go...heavens knows what for. Now, it looks like I'll be able to wear it somewhere!"

Brewster remained silent as Pelly hopped out of her seat, leaflet in hand, and collected her bag and cardigan.

"Thank you for this Brewster. You're a true friend!"

He felt his cheeks burn slightly as she flashed him a beautiful smile and disappeared out into the night. Maybe next Saturday, he would go to see his old friend preform.

Maybe he'd even see Pelly there.

 **happy valentine's day you old bags**


	6. Blathers

"And then there's the bug exhibit!" Blathers complained, as he had done for roughly five minutes straight. However, this was the one customer that Brewster didn't mind it when they constantly talked. Blathers was a dear friend who had helped Brewster when he was at his lowest point. The wonderful thing about Blathers was he was good at talking, whereas Brewster found himself good at listening. A talent that had made its way around the town, thanks to a certain mole, "There's a broken lamp in there, the one for the moth. How can I get in there to fix it when the thought of going it makes me feathers fall out!"

"Coo...I wouldn't mind going in to have a look for you…" Brewster offered. Blathers shook his head.

"No, no, my friend. You're busy here. I shall enquire with our friend Tom Nook and see if he knows someone. I believe he will, that man has his fingers in more pies than me in a bakery, wot wot!"

Brewster had often wondered where he would be without Blathers. After all, it was Blathers who found him in the big city, owning a coffee shop on its last legs.

"It's these blasted franchises, wot wot!" He had exclaimed, after trying one sip of Brewster's home made coffee, "They put quality independent businesses like this in the dust whilst they build up an empire!"

The kind hearted museum curator had immediately set up plans to convert the downstairs exhibit into a coffee shop. It had been a gryoid exhibit, and Brewster had ended up with a multitude of the things in his coffee storeroom. It had sparked up a giant interest and passion for him, the only one other than coffee, and Brewster still had those gryoids with him to this day, despite the fact he now had his own cafe in the middle of town.

"I do miss not having you at the museum, what. Sometimes these chats between you and I would be what got me through the long shifts."

"Business going slow?"

"Not necessarily, no. People just don't need me anymore. Yes, I analyse the occasional fossil but with our complete exhibits, I don't need to take donations anymore. I feel rather unneeded."

The museum was Blathers' pride and joy. Brewster often spent many a day listening to Blathers talk about a new donation or how quickly the exhibition rooms were filling up. The sparkle he got in his ways when talking about it was a joy Brewster didn't see in other people. It warmed his heart to know that his friend was so dedicated to his work, and how happy that work made him in return. Seeing him so down about something he was usually so enthusiastic about made Brewster very sad indeed.

"You could try to spice it up, coo. Events in the museum, perhaps. Or even pop-up exhibits."

"That is a good idea, what. I have considered such things like a history of the town exhibit, or even a collection of the precious metals found here. I hate the idea of people getting bored of what we have, especially if I were to find myself bored!"

"Same again?" Brewster offered. Blathers shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, old friend. I believe I should be getting back soon, to discuss these ideas with Celeste. Although, may I get a coffee in a takeaway cup for her? She misses your cafe dreadfully."

Brewster obliged, getting the cup ready.

"Maybe I'm just getting old. I miss the days where I felt spirited and passionate. We'd talk into the night about history, coffee, science and the big city. Sharing ideas...sharing dreams," Blathers chuckled to himself.

"Coo...I agree...they were some of my happiest memories…"

Blathers smiled at his friends honesty. He had a good idea of the hard life Brewster had led and, although he'd made a point to never bring it up or ask, he always tried to brighten his friend's day up, as he felt that hadn't been a frequent occurrence throughout his life.

"I'm going to start coming down once a day, I do believe. Not only does it give my sister good practise in running the place, I miss spending time with my best friend."

"...Thank you…"

As Blathers left, Brewster felt a cold pang of sadness in his heart, as he always did upon his friend going home. Yet, he felt a warm happiness as well.

He couldn't wait to listen to Blathers tomorrow.


	7. KK Slider

Brewster sighed contently as the pleasant and peaceful guitar music filled his ears. K.K Slider continued to play the melody from where he sat on his bar seat.

"That's the tune, man. Wrote it thinking about this place. It's so cool you've carved out a peaceful corner to the world to yourself," the musician told the barista.

"Thank you...coo. It was always my pleasure to share it with you...during your shows…" Brewster smiled to his friend. Saturdays had always been a highlight for Brewster as it meant his friend would be coming to perform. K.K Slider was a man of few words, much like Brewster, but those few words would always be respectful and humble. It had stayed that way, despite his new notoriety as a popular musician.

K.K smiled at Brewster's kind words and took a sip to sample the last dregs of his coffee. Brewster had found him at the train station, singing for spare change and scraping bells to make a living. K.K knew that Brewster could see something special in him, and his performances at The Roost back in the museum had really catapulted his fame. Now K.K Slider was a household name and Brewster had his own cafe in the middle of town.

Truthfully, seeing a young man, suffering whilst trying to live off his passion had reminded Brewster of himself back in the city. Those dark days haunted him, and he wanted to save someone else from that same fate. Not only had he helped K.K Slider get his music into the mainstream listeners possession, K.K truly believed the kind-hearted barista had saved his life.

"Little slice of heaven," K.K mused looking around at the homely, wooden cafe, "I wish I could perform here again, but fame has its heavy tolls. I'd never disturb the peace you have here, dig?"

"Many fans, I take it? Coo…"

"You said it, Brew," the musician agreed. Brewster didn't care for nicknames, however, with K.K Slider, he always let it...slide.

"Too many to count. I am grateful to them because it's their passions that let me make a career out of _my_ passion," he answered, "But it's both allowed and restricted my freedom. I can go where I want, when I want but I can never go peacefully."

Brewster silently listened whilst polishing the bar. K.K was staring into space, with melancholy eyes.

"Sometimes I reflect on the days when I was just an unknown peddler, selling my musical wares upon your stage," he sighed poetically. He turned to Brewster, "Those were my happiest times, dog."

It was true that Brewster missed his musical friend, just how he missed Blathers also.

"As much as I miss your performances...I find myself thankful that you can perform to the world instead of just me...coo," Brewster told K.K Slider, who let out a chuckle.

"You always had a way with words," he smiled as he played as few notes on his guitar, "I should get you to write a song one day."

Brewster returned to his cleaning.

"Did you hear the song I wrote about this place?"

The barista shook his head.

"My record company made the beat too cosmopolitan for my tastes, and no doubt yours. They tether down my music, instead of letting it rise to the sky. Let me play you the acoustic version."

K.K steadied his guitar on his lap and shot a meaningful smile to Brewster.

"It's called K.K Cafe."

K.K began to play, strumming every note perfectly and singing with true spirit. Brewster watched, awe-struck, as his friend played and sang. The cafe was empty apart from the two of them, yet it felt much more personal and full than it did before. The melody was calm, yet sweet, and full of calm tones. K.K sang perfectly, like every line was special, every word, every syllable. Brewster found himself caught in this most pristine moment as his friend sang a song which managed to capture all of his cafe dreams into one magical song. He found himself heartbroken when it came to an end.

"Heh, I worked hard on that one. The most important song I ever created," K.K Slider said with a sad smile, "It reflected you. Slow and steady, quiet dynamics, but kind undertones. Just like you, man."

Brewster looked at his friend.

"It was a beautiful song, my friend. Thank you for sharing it with me...coo."

"I wish I wrote it back when I performed here, weekly. Then you could hear it all the time and remember how much you mean to me," the musician replied, "I'd love to see you at Club Lol but if it's not your scene, it's not your scene. It's not really mine, either."

"I have been invited to go to one of your acoustic nights by a girl from the post office," Brewster said, to his friends surprise.

"You gonna drop in?"

"I am...undecided. However, if I get to listen to your music once more, I will be making an effort to appear, coo."

K.K Slider chuckled. No matter how many agents he had, how many marketing directors he met, Brewster would be his biggest inspiration and role model. He became successful at music for no other reason than to gain his pride.

"I can't tell you how happy that makes me," he admitted. The barista smiled.

"It makes me happy too, coo. I have missed your music on a Saturday night. Often I have contemplated buying one of your records but I know you don't like that."

"My music is my gift of freedom, to myself and the world. And no freedom should have a price tag."

"Yes, I remember your speech about the 'fat cats'."

K.K smiled and looked sadly at the time. He was due at the club for his nightly performance.

"I hope to see you there, my friend. Let me know when you have some time and drop by the club. I'll play you my music there, the two of us."

And with that, the musician left.


End file.
